So after hours of flying we safely landed back in Jacksonville. It was a long, but fun-filled 20 days of traveling throughout Spain. I had a great time, made new friends, and had experiences that will be with me for the rest of my life. The people we met were so wonderful. So many stories were told to us that I can’t even remember them all. Not everything was sunshine and rainbows. Our group faced health issues, financial troubles, occasional infighting, and general fatigue, but none the less we made it through. That’s what the experience of the Camino is all about. It wears you down, beats you up, but you keep on trekking. It’s a learning experience that tests your limits and teaches you about yourself. I think this pilgrimage helps people who are struggling by offering a chance to escape it all for a brief period. But more importantly, it helps them deal with their problems. Everyone has turmoil in their life, nothing can stop that. But turmoil need not define a person. While you encounter others on the walk, at the end of the day it’s just you. Your own personal journey on the Camino de Santiago. Doesn’t matter if your initial reasons for taking the journey are religious or secular, this pilgrimage is about finding out who you are, and who you want to be.

By Phillip C. Boan

The Romans believed that Finisterre was the “end of the world.” If you ever have the opportunity to visit on a foggy day, it is easy to see why they thought that. This is how our jolly band spent our last day in Spain, exploring the ends of the earth. Finisterre is located on a peninsula that stretches far into the Atlantic. It is cold and mountainous country. The group took a bus, up the long windy roads that led to the spot. Once there we disembarked and began to walk. The first thing you see coming out of the fog is a gift shop — shocker there. It sells you basic touristy stuff, for a cheap price. It is pretty standard. After the gift shop one must walk into the fog to find El Centro Agentino de La Coruna, a small square with only one large building next to it. The building is an art museum of some kind and is a nice place to take a break from the fog and wind.If one goes past the square, they run into the cliffs. There is pilgrim debris everywhere; shoes, pens, pencils, ashes, jackets, sticks, etc. Our group gathered on one of the ledges and we burned our personal talismans. Afterwards, I decided to walk farther down. I went until I felt I could go no farther without endangering myself, and then I took a seat. From where I was I couldn’t see the ocean, but I could hear the monstrous waves pounding the rocky shore. On a peak a few feet away from where I was sitting I could see a lone Texas flag waving in the breeze. It was a calming moment; sitting there watching the Texas flag fly and listening the Atlantic Ocean crash. I could have sat on the cliff forever.

By Kyle MuzelakAfter completing the pilgrimage, we stayed in Santiago for a few days. Santiago is an amazing city and we were able to see some incredible sites. The last day of being in Spain we went to Finisterre and saw the end of the world, as far as the medieval ages knew. It was a cold and foggy day and we could not see much, but in the small town of Carnota we were able to see some really interesting sites, one being the longest granary (Hórreo) in Galicia. It was created in the 1700s. There were two towns that had a competition to create the longest granary and neither said they had the longest.I love history and seeing this huge granary was interesting to me because it showed me the competitiveness hundreds of years ago and these people were very proud of their accomplishment. Something as small as building a huge granary can be an outstanding feat for some and it is amazing to me. In Finisterre, we could not see much due to the fog but I still felt as if I was at the end of the world. That last day was purely stunning with each of the beautiful sites we went to. I hope many people take it upon themselves to go see these beautiful sites and walk the pilgrimage after reading our blog postings.

By Nick Norris

I stare into the void, and it stares back into me. On the cliffs of Finisterre I could hear the ocean, but I couldn’t see past the shroud of thick fog. It’s a fitting end to my journey. After seeing so much, it’s a reminder that there is a lot of mystery left. I’ve accomplished a goal I set back when I was seven, seeing Europe. My future now is unclear. A new mountain has to be surpassed. I look back to the radio tower behind me. It’s covered in shoes, locks and graffiti. The words “No Mas. No Mas” are painted on it in deep red. Other cries of joy and labor accumulate on this tower in different colours. I feel it, the essence of the journey. I recognize the writing of the graffiti and have a sense of relief that these familiar strangers had made it as well. I lacked this fulfillment in Santiago, even after receiving my compostela. I watched two women weep in front of the pilgrim’s office and wondered what was missing inside me. At the time, I wondered if I was really a pilgrim. Had I not been truthful in my endeavor? I thought not walking from Saint Jean Pied de Port had robbed me of my finale, which I still think plays a role somewhat in how I perceived the experience. I just haven’t walked far enough. The coast of Galicia and Finisterre feels like an ancestral home. It reminds me of my hometown Saint Augustine mixed with the mountains of North Carolina. The Celtic music haunting the air gives the experience an even deeper ethereal feel. It’s a fugue. The duende of the journey had finally produced the sound I wanted. Its sad tone was finally met with its inspirational counterpart to make a palpable dream state. So moved, I kneel down onto the rocks of the cliff and carve into a post a message for every pilgrim now and later. Sic Itur Ad Astra.

Depending on who you ask, the Camino de Santiago has many different symbolic, spiritual and religious meanings. Our class learned about many of them however one of them has stayed true to me throughout this liminality period in my life. It was during our first week in Roncesvalles where our class experienced an act of destiny private tour with Father Juan. Not only did we experience a tour but we also heard of his encounters and experiences with the Camino. Father Juan explained to us that the Camino is a journey grander than ourselves and that on our walk, we were supposed to experience and feel pain in order for God to get closer us. On the Camino the pilgrim only has what is on his back, his thoughts and what is in his heart. The Camino is used to release what is holding us back in our lives; depression, insecurities, resentment, pain, fear, unhappiness — everything which is not working out for our greatest good — the Camino is used symbolically to release them. When we reach the end at Finisterre some of us chose to burn certain items that meant something significant to us. It was at Finisterre I chose to burn what was holding me back as I begin my new journey here in Europe, so that I too, as many pilgrims before me, walk into my new beginnings.

By Kaylah Jackson

I don’t even know how to put today into words. We finished the Camino and I have never felt more camaraderie, accomplishment, or pride in my entire life. I walked through the tunnel hand in hand with the people who have helped to encourage and motivate me the entire way and the feeling was like no other. From the very beginning of this trip I had no idea what to expect, but limping in to Santiago with my classmates who have come to mean so much more to me in these few short weeks than I ever thought possible, I am overcome with a sense of renewed vigor for whatever the next chapter in my life brings. I have a special place in my heart for the incredibly brave and powerful woman who has been by my side for every up and down of this trip, who despite currently undergoing chemo finished the last few miles with us, showing us all just what can be accomplished with the right attitude and determination. This trip wouldn’t have been nearly as memorable or life changing without her. You mean the world to all of us Jess and you are truly all of our Hero Champion!

By Jessica Harden

One of my reasons for deciding to take this trip this summer is that I have a rare disease that might take most or all of my eye sight away from me at a young age. I plan to see as much of the world as I can before that happens. Spending these weeks learning about the Camino and then being here to experience it is one of the greatest moments of my life. Right before you get to the cathedral in Santiago, which is the point to which the Camino leads, there is a tunnel you have to walk through. For a moment everything is darker, and when you emerge from the tunnel you are flooded with sunlight and are finally in the square where the cathedral is. Should I lose my eye sight before I'm done exploring the world, I'll always be able to recall how it looked and felt to walk through that tunnel and into the square outside the cathedral. I'll always be able to close my eyes and remember all the beautiful mountains I've climbed in Spain. I'll always be able to recall the sunsets and waking up before the sun rose to get an early start on my walk to Portomarín. I'll always be able to close my eyes and remember all of the moments that have led up to walking through the tunnel, and how the sunshine felt on my face as I looked around and realized we had made it to Santiago. And most importantly, I'll always remember the people who walked beside me.

By Kyle MuzelakEven though we walked the bare minimum required of the Camino to get your Compostela, I still felt a sense of major accomplishment and appreciation for the history and landscape of Spain. The people we met along the journey all seemed happy and enthusiastic to explain their point of view of the walk and even when passing by people on the Camino, they would happily yell, “Buen Camino!” The attitudes of people walking and the landscape we passed and witnessed really made the experience that much better for me. Hiking up and down mountains, seeing such beautiful countryside was breathtaking. The land was beautiful and green. The small villages were so old and stunning in their own way. We would walk right through small villages and behind peoples’ homes and never worried about bothering them. The people were very pleasant and continued doing whatever work they were doing on their farms with no bother to the many pilgrims walking past them. The picture for this blog posting made the most sense to me to explain how beautiful the walk really was. The landscape around me was stunning and the pose showed how much fun I was having hiking, regardless of the great distance ahead of me. Phil and I took many pictures like this to keep our spirits up, smile and laugh at ourselves, and enjoy the time we had hiking in such a stunning country.

By Daniel Woodhouse

I definitely under estimated how difficult the Camino would be. From the steep hill, to the rocky unpaved roads, to the blistering heat which caused me to become overheated and almost pass out at one point. Despite all this I loved the sights, sounds, and people we encountered along the journey. I was in awe of the endless rolling hills upon which numerous farms and villages sat upon. The many different animals we saw from oxen to an ostrich. I ate some many different foods I would have never thought to try before, such as the many lamb sandwiches, margarita pizza, and even a plate of chopped up octopus. On the Camino a few of the cafes even had their version of mac n’ cheese.

What I loved most about the Camino was the people we met. The pilgrims we talked to always had an endless stories to tell; tales of lost loves, and new love found on the Camino. People who walked for St. James or those who simply have the act of hiking in their blood. In addition to the pilgrims we also met a lot of interesting locals. Like the woman who was giving out free bags of berries or the guy who would stamp your pilgrim passport with a red hot seal.

By Phillip C. Boan

Kyle and I were walking along the Camino de Santiago — it was our first day on the trail and we were both feeling fresh and ready for the adventure when ahead of us we saw a large herd of cows. Not the pretty white and black cows you see on a Chick-fil-A advertisement, but the real-like brown ones covered in dirt, sweat, and flys (not unlike the average pilgrim). We had seen cows before, but what made this instance different was the lack of a human shepherd. Instead there where two large German Shepherds herding the 'pile' of cows.It was quite possibly one of the oddest things I have ever seen in my short life!The dogs split the cows into two groups, with each dog controlling their own group of 20 or so. It was quite clear that the dogs where the brains of the operation, because the cows would walk in a straight line until the group ran into a fork in the road. Then they would stand there like an eighteen year old on his first day of boot camp, waiting for the dogs to come and show them the way. At one point a larger cow tried to pass a smaller one only to result in the two having a small fight. I was starting to worry about my safety do to my proximity to the beasts. Out of nowhere, one of the German Shepard’s ran up to the cows (both of whom where twice the dogs size and certainly three times his weight) and began to give them a death stare. The dog did not even need to open its mouth and bark. The cows seemed to know what the dog was thinking, and they "removed themselves from the situation," as my mother would say. After a while the dogs led their cows down a thin trail just off the Camino. The hour of the cows and dogs, was one of the oddest experiences of my life.

By Nick Norris

When one thinks of Spain, it’s usually a whole object. There’s a landmass we see on a map or globe, and we assume that it’s Spain. We can do the same to the United States, but what we know as residents of this country is that each State has it’s own culture, agenda, and differences in legal system. It wasn’t too long ago Texas wanted it’s freedom to separate. Parts of California tried to announce independence. Until very recently, same sex marriage was splitting up the country. Like our U.S., Spain is divided as well. The parts we traveled through were Catalonia, Castile, and Galicia. Each one has it’s own culture and social constructs. Catalonia wants to be recognized by the powers of Spain as a region. It’s Catalan language is mixed with French. Right beneath the surface, there is talk of the area wanting to be independent. While in León, a part of Castile, I saw graffiti that read “Espanol = Castile.” What I found out by a few locals is that Castile considers itself the center of Spain and the true Spain. I wasn’t able to collect enough stories and local statements to know if this is fact, but nonetheless it means some people believe it. The uncertainty is if it’s an agreement regionally.Catalonia definitely had French influences. I saw influences of León in the traditional architecture from early period Florida such as Saint Augustine. Galicia, the last region to be visited, has a Celtic background. The accent is different, and the Spaniards there relate to Celtic backgrounds. On the coast is Finisterre. There is a shrine on the cliffs to burn a belonging. Celtic music plays from a nearby kiosk. The region sees that is so unique, and there are parties of people who want to see independence from the main mass of Spain. The Galiza Nova are a youth movement against a suppressive form of capitalism. While in Santiago, I witnessed parades around the town of youths rebelling against current social-political powers. I do not have the knowledge to properly ascertain the situation in its entirety, but the signs of change rest in the actions and words of people. While traveling, I suggest learning about the places you’re going. Being caught unaware might be a case for disaster. It’s easy enough to look at pretty pictures and masses of land on maps and not think about the cultural elements of a place. The United States isn’t just one homogenous region, neither is Spain, and neither are any other places.

The Camino de Santiago has ended for us — some of us went home and others have continued to travel on. We all can agree that we appreciated the journey, and have been enlightened in big or small ways. We pushed our limits, and made it to the very end, and that feeling of accomplishment is something we can never forget. Now that it is over, we have a better understanding of why people continue to travel along the multiple ways of St. James — some had religious reasons and some had spiritual or recreational reasons, but regardless of that it is time needed away from the daily stressors of life, just like they did during medieval times. A pilgrim will go through times of reflective solitude and also times being vulnerable with a complete stranger. Phil Cousineau, the author of The Art of Pilgrimage says, “Pilgrimage means following in the footsteps of somebody or something we honor to pay homage. It revitalizes our lives, reinvigorates our very souls.” The people in the past carved the path, and we people of the present continue to use the path in our own ways.

By Matthew Dent

When one walks 116km, it can challenge the way you look at your world. In my hometown, and many places in America, a walk of more than five minutes is considered a long walk. In Spain, in the cities especially, that was not the case. We walked everywhere out of necessity, and this is after already walking 15 miles from town to town. My feet held up well, but my illusions of distance did not. No longer will I lament a ten minute walk if I miss the bus. I know how far and, to be frank, how easy a thirty minute walk really is. I actually enjoyed walking — it brought prospective and easy time for reflection. Or, if you tire of yourself and your thoughts, some earbuds and an album always serves to keep you occupied. Plus, while you see the landscape from the backseat of a car, you FEEL the landscape when you walk it. Each hill becomes a journey, each stretch of open ground in the hot sun a gauntlet. I did not feel the elation that was reported upon seeing the Cathedral of Saint James, but I did when John and I scaled the hill to the hotel after walking forty minutes from the center of town. Do I regret walking? No, and my feet do not either.

By Cory Jones

The Camino for me was a pretty moving experience. I really got to know myself and what I am capable of achieving. Hiking the Camino, even for only 100 kilometers, was extremely difficult. We forged friendships and created lasting bonds together, but we all grew individually as well.

It took a lot of personal perseverance to achieve what we did and I look at my Compostela now, knowing that I am capable of more than I think sometimes. The Camino is a metaphor for life for me, it has moments of pure joy as well as arduous hills to climb, but every step of the way is an achievement.

Breathing, Crying, Blinking, Eating, Running, and walking are actions that come naturally to most people. It’s simple, something we don’t think about or consider on a daily basis. Yet, when everything around you is foreign, those things become precious. They are reassurances. You know how to breathe falling asleep. You can chew your food without a problem. The Camino was simply walking, but the way was precious and taught us many things. During the final stretch, a few of our members went ahead of the group to find a place to meet up. On the way, we passed by the airport fence, which was littered with hundreds of wooden crosses. The sheer mass of humanity that passes by on the Camino affected us all.

We met up at small church and waited for the group to walk into Santiago together. After a couple of group photos next to a modern Camino sculpture, we began our final few kilometers into the city. The Camino de Santiago, as stated in our blogs before hand, is a pilgrimage, a walk from one area to the Compostela. Such a simple and natural concept: walking. However, the pondering, struggling, and discovery in the trek are what make the ending so sweet. Upon arrival at the Compostela, when you hear the bagpipes playing and emerge from the tunnel, a sensation of victory soaks your soul. Everyone’s story of travel maybe different, but when you reach the main plaza, your triumph stands as one.

Our own completion was very moving. We limped and groaned into the city, keeping together as a group. As we moved through the tunnel, past the bagpipes, hands were clasped and raised into the air. Turning the corner out of the tunnel, the cathedral came into view, and was greeted with whoops of laughter and sighs of relief. The callings of other successful pilgrims cheer a weary heart. People are everywhere, taking pictures, hugging, celebrating the long journey’s end. It didn’t matter where they started from, what their situation was. Only that they had finished, and finished in glorious success. We had made it too. Our Camino was complete, and we did together.

When it comes down to it, the Camino is about people. People walk to and from, up and down, but most importantly, in and out of our lives. The Korean man who walks by and gives you a thumbs up, the Briton who says “Buen Camino” through labored breath, the Spaniard who yodels as he bikes past — these are the true notes of flavor to the Camino. What forms the backbone is walking, the dominant mindless trudging through idyllic and stinking dairy country which every pilgrim must endure. However, the high and mid notes of this aromatic cocktail are the moment-to-moment, person-to-person encounters. In León, as we performed our evening crawl through downtown eating numerous and delicious tapas, I bumped into a man from Japan names Daiki. I lived in Japan for several years, so it took less time than a jackrabbit takes to leap off a hot griddle for us to become fast friends. Daiki was beginning the Camino the next morning at six o'clock. We laughed and joked, but we also discussed more serious matters like the state of his beloved home country and how he planned to go back home to his girlfriend and his family. If not for those human elements, like sharing a beer with Daiki over tapas and discussing his hopes and fears, we would simply be plodding along as sheep over hills and streams to a giant stone box. Instead, we build these ephemeral relationships that transcend the boundaries of normal friendship. We are bonded by our journey and our struggle, by our sore feet and our tired eyes. They say in the study abroad safety meetings, “be wary of "instant friends," but there should be an asterisk saying: *except on the Camino.

By Corey Jones

‪For me the best parts of the Camino are the quiet moments of reflection that I find as we walk. I breathe in the fresh air in the eucalyptus forests and am alone with my thoughts even as we file past groups on the trail. However, we have also met many other pilgrims on the road and that has provided its own kind of reflection.‪One of the most memorable to me was a couple from San Francisco we met at the beginning of the Camino. They were an older couple and they had some interesting views on the experience. They were doing the Camino for religious reasons and they were extremely interested in the history behind it. Talking with them made me realize just how much I cared about this thing that we are doing and how glad I am that I have been able to experience such a historically significant place. ‪Of course then afterward, the husband told us that he didn't major in history because he wanted to "major in something practical," so that changed the way that I looked at them a little. However, they were the catalyst for a revelation that I am in an amazing place and seeing something truly important.

‪By John “Ioannem” Douglas

We had passed her on the way to Palas do Rei on the day before, but that conversation had been limited to the typical inquiries about national origins (she was from Denmark) and the now wearisome wishing of “Buen Camino” before we overtook her. But we saw her pale complexion and strawberry blond hair on the Camino the very next day on the road to Melide, so I decided to greet her once again. The conversation started off slowly, but I eventually learned that Katja Nielsson is a former Danish Army infantrywoman who served a combat tour of duty in Afghanistan and had started the Camino in St. Jean Pied de Port after seeing a TV special during Christmas time about the Camino. I asked her if she had gotten what she had expected from the Camino. She said yes, she knew that it would be just be a whole lot of walking, much like she had done in the military. What she did not expect, though, is how beautiful Spain could be, and also how quickly one could grow numb to beauty if you were always surrounded by it. This gave me pause and made me think of how we look at the world around us. Spain to me was still gorgeous, but that may have been the blisters on my feet telling me that. How long would it take me to grow numb to the Camino around me? Although I did not find the answer, I knew that as I laid my eyes upon the Catedral de Santiago, that the Camino still filled me with joy.

‪By Sarah Kim

I had this romantic expectation of the Camino being all about me. I was being selfish and only thinking of trying to find myself along the Camino, and have been ignoring the other side of the Camino, meeting people. There are times to be silent and reflect, but it is also important to balance that with time to be social and not remain in solitude the entire way. Some people come into our lives and may quickly go, but they all awaken a new understanding or perspective during the time they share with us.

‪I met this lovely lady named Cheryl, who came to the Camino with her daughter's youth group. She hoped to spend time with her daughter and take it slow. Her daughter though, believed the Camino was a race. As a result, Cheryl spent much of her time chasing after her daughter and worried that she was wasting her own pilgrimage. She was also disappointed that some French pilgrims accused her group of not being real pilgrims since they were only walking a small portion of the Camino and not staying in albergues. She found this criticism particularly upsetting because she was already pushing her limits. In her frustration she asked me what a real pilgrim is — a question I couldn't fully answer. Everyone has their own opinion on what a real pilgrim is.

With 1,800 square meters of stained-glass windows, the Santa María de León Cathedral, León’s famous gothic cathedral, has been a personal favorite of ours. Built on a tenth-century foundation, the current gothic style church was begun in the early thirteenth century. A local woman — who coincidentally had a role in the film The Way — told us an intriguing legend about the church. During the original construction of the cathedral, laborers worked during the day, but upon returning the next morning they would discover their previous days work was ruined. After days of frustration they discovered a giant mole was to blame for the destruction. Naturally, to fix the problem, the laborers set a massive bear trap in the cathedral and the mole was caught. After killing the mole, the locals took its skin and hung it at the door of San Juan. More recently, the skin was tested and proven to be turtle skin, but the legend is still a fantastic piece of folklore for the city of León. Beyond this fanciful legend the church is replete with remarkable stories and images — including what appears to be a statue of Saint Luke with sunglasses! However the most striking feature of the church remains the stained glass. At every turn your eyes are drawn to these magnificent sights featuring stories from the Bible and depictions of prominent saints. Old Testament figures dominate the north wall with New Testament on the south wall. Due to Spain’s geographical position, the sun will shine continuously through the south windows. The metaphorical significance highlights Jesus’ arrival in the New Testament, becoming the savior of the world. The north windows stay dark to show the desire for a long-awaited messiah.

Another prominent stained glass feature is the rose window stationed at the western wall of the cathedral. This massive window displays the Virgin Mary at the center surrounded by other major religious figures. The window’s western position allows the light of the sunset into the cathedral each evening.

The Santa Maria de León Cathedral is an almost perfect example of early Gothic style. The elegant lines and soaring windows of the Gothic style are free from the flourished details of the later Florid Gothic style, allowing us to truly appreciate the magnificent work of art that this church is. The peaceful and somber interior of the cathedral inspired us to ponder its intriguing history and architectural components. The Santa Maria de León Cathedral was definitely a favorite site and an unforgettable experience.

Tomorrow is officially day one of our pilgrimage! I’m so nervous yet excited! Someone said we’re going to be walking 14 miles, which sounds like a lot, but I guess with how much ground we have to cover in six days we need to do as much as we can. I feel prepared and determined to test myself considering I have read tons of journals written by other pilgrims who have done the entire Camino, so we’ll see how it goes. It’s going to be so great finally experiencing everything I have been reading about. I’m going to have to start finding pilgrims to interview for the ethnography portion of this class which I’m really looking forward to. The stories I’m going to hear are bound to be inspiring and interesting, maybe convincing enough to come back and do the entire six week journey. I can’t wait to get started!

By Natasha Rivera Codero

Today marks the first of our actual walk to Santiago de Compostela in our beloved España. Embarking in pairs we started our journey at 6:15 am to the little town of Portomartin which is where we will rest for the night. The walk was challenging going uphill to downhill then everything in between we kept on treading on without a missing a beat. Along the way we saw horses, donkeys, cows, goats and many dogs that we could not help to stop and pet! However it was the scenery that was truly engrained in our hearts. Don’t believe me? Take a look at the view this morning!

By Jessica Harden

We are walking the Camino. I'm really excited because this is what we have been learning about all along. I'm excited to see the path that people have been walking for centuries and to take part in it myself. I am also really excited to meet other pilgrims along the way and get to know more about what it is like to go on a modern pilgrimage. The next few days are sure to be tough, but I'm certain we are all going to learn so much during our travels as we get closer and closer to Santiago. I have seen many beautiful pictures of what the cathedral looks like in Santiago and I can't wait to experience for myself what it is like to walk up to it after all of our learning and travels.

The streets of downtown León consist of small alleyways with a plethora of stores and taverns. People, tourists and locals, crowd the streets in clustered masses. Walking through the crowds is a task by itself, and when you’re trying to find a certain place, it’s difficult enough to navigate the streets. As a non-local, the streets are a confusing labyrinth of curved turns and branching paths that make unexpected turns in the opposite direction you would think. I find myself lost, and in the confusion, I get swept up in a current of people walking the same direction. Their movements are patterned to each other, a slow tempo walk. They make two rows, a candle in each person's hand. There’s a momentary pause, a brief stop in the march. The deep sound of drums heralds a rising swell of horn instruments. The music is a somber sound, setting a slow step for the crowd. Leading the group is a single man holding a giant cross and accompanied with two women holding long candle holders. Bringing up the rear of the procession is a rolling float of a haloed Mary holding baby Jesus. Its base is a collage of white, pink, and purple flowers. Four candle holders jut out from the flowers, five bulbs holding candles on each one. The band stops playing, and the white hatchback driving in between the two rows blares verse from a speaker. Voices rise in song, and the crowd is in full chorus together. When the verses end, the marching band starts again. We continue like this for more than an hour, winding through streets until reaching calle de Maria Teresa. People gather around the opening of a church, and the hatchback reads out more verse in Spanish. There’s less people in the crowd than when the procession started, but I feel the heavy atmosphere of a significant event. The crowd puts away all of their electronics and listen to the priest’s words. I watch some of the older women weep as they repeat them There is silence. The float makes its way to the church’s opening, and the 4 men wheeling it attempt to push it through. After a few attempts, it passes through the threshold. There’s a clamour of cheers from crowd, but the group quickly disperses. Some enter the church, and the others walk off. I’m left alone, lost in León.

By Phillip C. Boan

A few days ago, our company of wondering vagabonds visited the medieval city of Covarrubias. The town is located 26 miles south of the Castilian city of Burgos; that Sunday the city was holding a medieval fair. Being the good Catholic that I am, I decided to spend my time in Covarrubias attending mass. Before the service had started I noticed there where nearly three rows reserved for people, however I thought I was just for prominent members of the community. How wrong I was. Out of nowhere I hear the sounds of horns and drums. A procession of men, women, and child dressed in full medieval grab; there was even a King and Queen. Following the town’s people where the musicians, who playing a “grand tune” while they circled the interior of the small church. Then all went calm. Then the priest and deacon entered the church. The choir then began to sing, followed by the rest of the church till the entire hall was filled with the sound of many voices singing the same holy hymns. The rest of the mass was pretty standard stuff; that is the great thing about being Catholic, mass is pretty much the same wherever you go. When the mass was coming to an end, the priest tried to say the ending “Concluding Doxology,” but the choir would not let him. Instead they sang for nearly fifteen minutes while the priest stood there waiting for them to finish their joyful songs. It reminded me of a line from Don Maclean’s famous song, American Pie (it also happens to be my favorite song), “the players tried to take the field, the marching band refused to yield. Do you recall what was the feel, the day the music died?”

By Daniel Woodhouse

When we were venturing through the town of Covarrubias, I witnessed a parade of medieval characters marching through town. First in was a high lord clad in chainmail, dawning a white cloak and the sigil of his house on his chest. By his side was his wife wearing a blue and gold silk dress. A red jester, juggling a broom between two sticks scampered by in his striped purple pantaloons. A young lord, lathered in colors of his family’s house who was also wearing a white cloak, followed the lord. Holding the hand of this handsome young lord, was his pretty princess who chose a perfect purple dress for the occasion. Close behind, dress in armor, from head to toe, marched forward a knight of the Knights Templar. He was followed by a trio of drummers dressed in brown rags. Their chorus of pounding and thumping entangled with the sound of a trio of flute players; one maroon, one blue, and one in an orange outfit. Strolling behind them was a small group of ladies from the minor houses dressed in a rainbow of colors from teal to turquoise. Fluttering behind the noble women were the flags and banners of the various noble houses of the land. Clenched tight by the very knights and bannermen who served under them. As the lords and common folk alike began to steer toward the church the church’s own banners, held by two inquisitors, stride onward with a bishop leading the trio. Toward the end a group of moors appear as well to add their colors and sigils to the parade. At the very end of the parade is a group of prostitutes carrying a bearded man dress as a lady, just for some laughs.

By Kyle MuzelakDuring our stay in Burgos, we were fortunate enough to see the annual Folk Festival held there. They have been hosting this festival since the year 2000. Many different groups from all over Spain come to dance and play music. There are also groups from all over the world. For instance, there were groups from America, Cuba, Serbia, New Zealand, and Indonesia. The setting for this festival is a concert, where the patrons sit down in the square and watch the groups dance and play traditional music from their individual country, or area of Spain. It is held in the historic center of the city of Burgos. It was amazing and interesting because each country had shown us a peak into their musical history.I really enjoyed every country’s performances but the one that stuck out the most was the United States one, mainly because the first performance by our country was line dancing. Not that I do not think line dancing is cool and traditional but I live in America and my idea of a traditional dance did not include that in it. I am not completely sure what my idea of a traditional American dance would be but that was not at the top of the list. Although, the Utah team did an excellent job and I for one am very proud of them and the fact that they were lucky enough to conduct a performance in Burgos! I hope that one day I am able to go back to Burgos, Spain and watch the Castillo Folk Festival again because it was quite intriguing.

We live in a society where we walk on egg shells when we speak about religion or politics. These two topics hold a passion which is found in every individual however some withhold their thoughts for the sake of being diplomatic or not to stir a debate. With that being said I find it fascinating that many of us on the pilgrimage are coming from strong spiritual backgrounds and we seem to be trying to find something bigger than ourselves. Anthropologist would define this as we are in a liminality phase basically a middle ground in between two phases’ childhood and adulthood. As I embark on this journey with my colleagues I see a sense of happiness and gratitude but as well as a sense of coming into one’s own in a very challenging world.

On our one of many daily adventures throughout Burgos, Spain we toured the Carthusian monastery of Miraflores that holds the tombs of the parents of Queen Isabella the Catholic. The layout of the church gives the visitor a sense they are on a pilgrimage, coming from the darkness into the light of Christ. Throughout our tour of the monastery we pass by saints, the Stations of the Cross, the Last Supper, and Mary and Jesus after the crucifixion. Even more than these images, it was the beautiful lighting that inspired this blog. The lighting symbolized what I have been experiencing on this camino. Breaking from the complete darkness was the image of Mary and her son, a symbol of hope that no matter how dark the world may be around you there is light to be found at the end of the tunnel.

By Jessica Harden

One of the best parts of this study abroad so far has been seeing history in front of our eyes. We have read and learned so much and seeing it in person adds a whole different perspective. In particular it has been amazing to me to see the Islamic influence in northern Spain. So many of the Christian monasteries and cathedrals have had ceilings, arches, and artwork all influenced by Islamic art. To be able to read about the history of northern Spain and then see it in the small details such as the patterns on the walls of the monasteries has been incredible. I felt really moved in the same way when we read The Song of Roland in Roncesvalles and saw where El Cid was buried in the Cathedral in Burgos. It has been really amazing to see history in all of the places we have been to.

By Kaylah Jackson

Today I had the incredible opportunity to visit the resting place of Ferdinand’s wife Isabelle’s parents. The intricate alabaster tomb was an awe inspiring example of devotion and power wielded by the former queen of Spain.The church Isabella built to hold the tomb has in it a clever play on light and artifacts that takes whoever enters on a small pilgrimage that ends in the room with her parents where you behold a stunning art piece depicting the Holy Trinity. Seeing all of the ways that pilgrimage has shaped the landscape of Spain has kept the purpose of this trip in the forefront of my mind and really made me think about the significance of what we’re doing.

We all can admit that this trip has surpassed our expectations. Spanish culture is beautiful and continues to amaze us. Here are some of our experiences:By Corey JonesWe went to a Chinese restaurant for dinner tonight, mostly just to see how it compared to our previous experiences with eating Chinese food. I spent most of this summer in China so I had a lot of interesting thoughts going in. It was immediately odd to me that the Chinese man who owned the restaurant started speaking in Spanish. That in itself was something very new that I experienced. The entire menu actually had a decent amount of "real" Chinese food on it, along with what we would perceive as "Americanized" Chinese food. This was different to me as well and I ordered the Peking duck in an attempt to stay true to the cultural roots of the cuisine. It came out in the same style as it would be served in Beijing, except for one difference — in China, Peking duck is a specialty and much care is taken in the way that it is cut so it takes a long time for the dish to come out. However, here the chef just cut it in the quickest way and it came out in a matter of minutes, which was a surprise to me. I think that's probably because most people in western countries like America or Europe probably won't wait at least 45 minutes to receive a dish. Regardless, the experience was so strange to me and I'm glad that we did it. It was something that we are fairly accustomed to, but here we had an entirely new experience.

By Matt Dent

The Taberna Patillas was plastered with old photos and newspaper clippings. Every space except the reddish-brown bar was occupied by the remains of patrons past and present. Hanging from these littered walls were various acoustic instruments including several guitars, a mandolin, and a violin. As our huge group ordered drinks, a group of old men entered and sat in the back corner, one of them quietly tuning his guitar. Without warning, the suave, portly man with slicked-back white hair began to sing. The songs he sang sounded like traditional ballads, while the guitarist expertly strummed along. We got the guitarist to play some more modern songs, mostly the Beatles, and we tried to sing along. Eventually, as we tired of the bar, an Irish woman came in with a fiddle and started playing with the gentlemen. She was getting upset at our bar noises, plus we were ready to leave, so we made like a lumberjack and split.

By John Douglas

The sound of the tambour drums wormed their way into the cavernous reaches of the cathedral of Covarrubias from the street, filling the cold medieval structure with life. Shawms then joined in a archaic wail as the procession crossed the threshold. Even from my poor seat in the nave next to the dusty bones of a long forgotten bishop I could see the procession slowly approach the altar in solemn composure. King Alfonso X took his seat on the altar with his queen and their whole noble retinue as the last notes of the drums and pipes echoed off of the vaulted ceiling. Although heavily accented with the tones of Castile, even a linguistically inept catholic American such as myself can still follow through the entire mass with little difficulty. It seem very strange to me that I was experiencing something universally understandable yet something so alien as a medieval Spanish Catholic mass. The congregation emerged from the cathedral into a different mass, a foreign one of swirling colors and smells erupting from a medieval festival that had set up shop outside. I threaded my way through the throng, admiring the wonderful crafts that these villagers cobbled together (in one case quite literally). However, I was soon broken out of my reverie by a stone-faced grim reaper. Why somebody would decide to dress up in a all black outfit in the midst of a Spanish heatwave as an embodiment of death is anybody’s guess. Perhaps it was actually the grim reaper there to remind all of those who had opted out of mass for caramelized almonds and leather handbags that they too would one day face their judgement. Gotta love the universality of Catholic guilt.

By Sarah Kim

There was a Medieval festival at Covarrubias near Burgos, which was probably one of the most amazing things so far. There were shops, people dressed up in medieval apparel, a fun parade — we even met the Grimm Reaper lurking around the elderly. Some of my friends and I received a tarot stone reading at the festival as well — it was my third spiritual reading so far on this trip. The tarot stone lady told me that I needed to get to know myself better. Fortunately, the Camino is coming soon, and I have about 100 kilometers and six days of walking to get to know myself. All my spiritual readings have pointed me towards the Camino, which has been encouraging me to get excited about the walk with our lovely new friends.

Everywhere we have gone, we continue to see connections back to King Alfonso the Eighth and his wife, Queen Eleanor. First we arrived at the town of Puente la Reina, named after Puente la Reina Bridge, which Queen Eleanor instructed King Alfonso to build. This bridge has become an iconic scene connected with the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage since its construction in 1181. While walking across the bridge, one finds a beautiful view of the Arga River and can see the transition from old to new and dark to light. An entire city sprouted around the bridge, solely because of its existence. The locals sometimes call the bridge Puente Romanica for its Roman structure and as a way to distinguish the bridge from town. However, the town and the bridge are symbiotic just as the University of Burgos and their hospitaleria.

At the University of Burgos, we took a tour to the pilgrim hostel and hospital which was also built by the demand of Queen Eleanor. This site has been host to many important events such as the marriage of King Charles the First and Queen Eleanor of Castille in 1254. The hostel located at the convent was the first of its kind as it provided 200 women’s rooms and 200 men’s rooms. These rooms were fully furnished, and guests could stay for free. The only rule was that guests could only stay for one night—unless they were sick. The hospital was also a first for the Camino. Patients were taken in and healed at no cost to the ill. Queen Eleanor eased the passage of the Camino sojourner vastly during her time while still allowing one to fully grasp the concepts of struggle, triumph, and pilgrimage. She allowed the pilgrim to travel safer, rest better, and stay healthier while travelling. The nagging wife might be seen as bad, but in this case it made life better for thousands of people a year.

Later that evening, we got to visit with the other North Florida study abroad Spanish team in downtown Burgos. Experiencing the night culture, we were able to practice sensory detailing; a tool essential to an effective pilgrimage. Hearing the music, tasting local cuisine, smelling tapas roasting in the stores, seeing people roaming the streets, feeling the cool wind of Burgos. All of these experiences are shaping us for the pilgrimage. The journey began in our preparations for our classes; an impossible task without the perseverance of the kindness of Eleanor.

My favorite experience today was how our adventure really gave us the opportunity to get to know each other so much more. We all had breakfast together and then walked up the path to the monument of Roland. The walk wasn’t easy, but the view was incredible. We stopped outside a church by the monument to read the Song of Roland. Dr. Ron directed and we alternated every few lines between two main groups, the girls and the guys, and John, who read the first two lines of each stanza. It was really neat to sing the song (which was an oral tradition) at the site of the battle. Even more cool was how we all managed to find rhythm together. Afterwards we continued to climb higher into the mountains. Throughout different portions of the walk we got to really talk to each other a lot and learn more about the group. I’m really excited for our future adventures together and getting to know everyone more.

When I first decided to participate in this trip I had a firm notion of what kind of emotions it would evoke. I was confident that as someone who was about to undertake a pilgrimage for purely adventurous reasons the sights and experiences would simply make me feel appreciation of the beauty of the trail, but in these last few days I have started to feel a sense of spirituality and camaraderie I didn’t expect. There was something about knowing I was finally walking along the Camino, a road that has been used for hundreds of years by a countless number of pilgrims, that made me feel connected to something larger than myself. Near the end of that day's walk when we reached the peak of a mountain, I felt so exhausted and yet so accomplished and proud of myself and imagined that this is what it must feel like to be a pilgrim. After getting back to the hotel to relax and eat we got to hang out with some other pilgrims which was such a neat experience. We couldn’t understand each other but there was such a strong bond and willingness to just be in the others presence that it didn’t matter, spending hours just laughing and enjoying the company.

By Natasha Rivera Cordero

As I look at this image I feel a sense of joy come over me. What I am looking at is not a boy professing his faith and kneeling down before God rather the story behind this photo. Taken in a cathedral located in the small town of Roncesvalles, Spain during what it seemed liked as an act of destiny. Everyone has a different perception of what is destiny and if it evens exist but for the purpose of this blog I will address it as it does and it simply cannot be altered. The series of events started when I first arrived to the town of Roncesvalles with heavy thoughts on my mind and thought it would be best to explore. During my walk to clear my mind I came across an ongoing mass. I was born a Catholic however I have not attended a Catholic mass in quite sometime however I figured why not? Although it was not what happened to me during the mass but after from a priest and his student. It was a handshake and me asking a simple question if a tour could be offered for my fellow historian classmates and to my surprise it was an absolute plus some. Throughout this last minute tour I saw my classmates express many expressions that I haven't felt in quite sometime; excitement, happiness, and appreciation. What I viewed as something small turned out to have a larger unexpected impact on the others around me. What I felt was amazing and what I saw in my fellow colleagues the passion, excitement and joy for their major was simply a greater gift in itself. How this picture came about was an act of destiny.

Before departing for Spain, I was definitely not the most religious person — in the group or among my own family members. I was inspired to go on this trip, mainly just to see Spain and be able to graduate with a study abroad trip under my belt. After reading the books assigned for the medieval pilgrimage class taught by our Professor, David Sheffler, I quickly started to become more aware of my devotion. It felt as if something was calling me to come back to the church. I was baptized Catholic as a teenager and went to church with my father, step mother and siblings in high school, but never really found my inspiration to go during that time.

Once arriving in Spain, we were able to see, hear, and feel some of the most beautiful buildings and churches in the world. While staying in Roncesvalles, a class member arranged a spontaneous private tour of the Real Colegiata de Santa María, museum and cemetery at ten o'clock in the evening. It was amazing — walking into such magnificence and beauty touched my heart. Once the tour ended, the Padre, or father of the church, asked us to come to mass the next day, which we gladly accepted. At first I was a little worried due to the language barrier, but after sitting through it and hearing all the different languages being spoken and understanding some of what was being said, a strong feeling came over me. The Padre called us up to bless us on our journey on the Camino and I just felt so connected again. It was an amazing feeling.

We have not even started walking the Camino yet and I am already starting to change just by seeing old churches and meeting new people. After only a few days, the trip has moved me in ways I had not expected.

By Phillip C. Boan

I was walking down the sunburnt streets of Puente la Reina, a town located along the Camino, with a few of my fellow pilgrims. I have been collecting postcards for my cousins, Charlie and Jackson, so when I saw a shop with a few of them hanging outside I decided to “cough up” the 50 cents to buy it. While waiting for the shopkeeper to finish with another customer, I noticed a stack of shells out of the corner of my eye. The scallop shell has been a simple of the Camino de Santiago since the first pilgrims made their way across the mighty Pyrenees. Being the romantic that I am, I decided to buy one to place on the back of my backpack. Since the bags were located in the bowels of José’s bus I had no choice but to put my purchases in shirt's front pocket.

After Puente la Reina, our merry band packed into the bus and rode through the hills 'till we reached Ayegui, home of the Monasterio de Santa María and the legendary Fountain of Wine. While walking down from the Monastery to the fountain, Michael and I were talking about how it was a shame neither of us had a cup to use for the wine. Somehow or another it was brought up that pilgrims sometimes use the scallop shells tied to their bags. I remembered I still had mine in my front pocket. It was a weird moment for me — it almost seemed like I had been tempted to buy the “nicknack” for the sacred fountain. It was just one of those things I suppose you just had to have been there to feel the almost essence of it all. So Dr. Sheffler, Michael, and I drank from the Fountain of Wine in the true pilgrims’ fashion — shell and all!

By Nick Norris

The Pyrenees mountains are verdant greens accumulating on grey and yellow rock faces. The emerald tips of far off peaks comprise of the lush amount of foliage. Ahead is the steady incline of the path. Each of my steps are a cautious advance forward against the uneven fragments of rock and collected mud of the trail. There’s a stream ahead, washing under the remnants of a man made bridge. Its body is a cobbled mess of local rocks and plaster. To my left, and past the small bridge, the stream opens up and falls down to a ravine that would mean certain death if I lose my footing.

I eventually wander from out of the canopy of collected trees to a clearing. The path expands out to an even incline. Browned by constant use, a path cuts through green fields. Along it, a small wooden fence runs between me and the church in the distance. It’s barely an impediment, as the gate is left unlocked and swings open with a slight touch. The church’s angular roof and nearby cross both stretch out to the grey clouds, growing larger as I come closer.

The wind picks up, rushing through the yellowing tips of long, green grass. My attention is drawn towards the direction the wind is blowing. Resting on top and elevated above on a hill, a large slab of square stone catches my gaze. It stands tall, golden in the fires of the setting sun’s rays. The rock itself is ablaze with heatless fire cast from the gaps between the clouds. Etched in the stone are the words:

ROLDAN

778 - 1967

It’s photogenic gold, but all I can do is watch, in agonizing eternity, the moment quickly slip away. Some moments are too rare to capture, and the context is lost behind the shutter of a camera.

By Daniel Woodhouse

There I was, just a few days ago climbing the Pyrenees mountains with the group. The wind was fierce, the temperature frigid, and the mountain itself a bit frightening. Yet I pressed on, determined to reach the summit. I reminded myself that this was no different than the Appalachians I climbed years ago. I was wrong. These were very different animals. We were so high up that we could literally touch the clouds.

The winds howled on and on while the clouds created a dense barrier of fog so that at times was impossible to see ten feet in front of you. Despite these obstacles I continued forward. I felt like the Marvel comic book character Doctor Strange traversing the Himalayas to reach the Ancient One. Though more realistically, it was an itty bitty taste of what it’s like for the men and women who hike Mt. Everest. Finally I reached the summit, or at least the highest point we could go that was public property. I sat down on one of the rocky ledges, got into my traditional Indian-style sitting position, closed my eyes and drifted off into a few brief moments of meditation. Once I had finished, I rejoined the group and headed back down the mountain.

We have only been in Spain for a few days but we have already had so many incredible experiences on the road to Santiago. We began yesterday in Barcelona and today we crossed the border into France briefly to visit St. Jean Pied de Port followed closely by Roncesvalles in the evening. We have traversed over a significant portion of the country, seen multiple Gothic churches, eating some amazing food, and putting our feet in the sand of the Camino. In our short time here, we have already come into contact with the Camino 'communitas,' the people here have been immeasurably friendly and welcoming. While we have seen this community spirit in action many times, some experiences stay with us more than others.

I was waiting on my friends when a middle-aged woman strolled into the bar and ordered a red wine. This being Spain, the seating arrangement in the establishment was rather hectic — I was already perched on the edge of the fireplace — so she borrowed a chair from another Spanish couple and set it down close to me. Inspired by my rather lonely and melancholic temperament at the moment, I ordered a beer and slumped back to my place at the fireplace. I was perfectly content to stare at the painting of the Basque shepherd on the far wall and compare his anxious indirect gaze to the same gaze with which the Basque man who sat beneath the painting looked at his wife. The woman, however had other plans; after I sat back down she said hello and asked how I was doing, in English, thankfully. Grateful for non-painting-related human contact, I slid over on the fireplace next to her like I was Tom Cruise sliding in his socks in Risky Business. Her name was Pauline, a retired lawyer from Amsterdam who worked as a hospitaler in the local Albergue. Forty-five minutes later, after meeting her husband Ben — who bought me another round — I had made two more friends. This, Pauline assured me, “Is the spirit of the Camino, we are always glad to share what we have and share our experiences.” Even with the Basque man hung on the wall staring anxiously at us, I was sure that I had tapped into something honest — something human.

Standing in the church in St. Jean Pied de Port, it was hard not to feel the power of the Camino pressing down on you. The gothic arches soared upward, bringing us towards God, while the candles and stone altar anchored us to the Earth. Staring like this, at the grandeur facilitated by the church, something seeps into your bones and draws you into the Camino. We want to get started, to get walking towards our destination, towards Santiago. There is a certain je n'est sais quois in the churches here. A connection with the earth, or with God, or something that touches us spiritually.

At dinner we made friends with two other pilgrims named, Jose-Manuel and just Jose. Although, they only spoke Spanish, we didn't let language be a barrier for a new friendship. They shared their purpose for pursuing the Camino. Jose-Manuel had been recently divorced, and was seeking himself along the Camino. He was looking for clarity and a new purpose. Jose has been on the Camino multiple times, simply for the adventure and to meet new people from different cultures. He told us that the Camino is not only one culture, but a mixture of many different cultures, so we will see different faces. And although they all may look different, they are still pilgrims. Later, we were blessed to be given a private tour by the Father of the church in Roncesvalles, who told us that "in this walk, you have no masks, you are just who you are, no longer defined by society, you are just a pilgrim.

One thing that stays with me as I write this, and will stay with me for a long time, is the feeling that I got at the start of the Camino. We passed pilgrims hiking through town with their packs latched to their back, the "pilgrim's meal" served at every restaurant, and the golden arrows on the ground pointing the way towards Santiago. It truly felt like we were sharing an experience with all of the people that we passed. The air was alight, buzzing with excitement for the days to come and the road ahead. I was moved when I realized, truly saw, that the pilgrim's road is not lonely, it is filled with hopes and emotions of everyone on it. We all may move separately along the path, but we experience the power of the Camino together.

Today I am traveling to Barcelona to begin the final portion of my travels abroad this summer. On Thursday I will have been gone for four weeks already! I spent the first couple of weeks traveling with the high school I graduated from and the last two weeks traveling with Kaylah and our friend Emily. So far I have visited Greece, Italy, France, Belgium and The Netherlands! I am looking forward to adding Spain to that list. I am currently on a mission to see as much of the world as I can while I have the opportunity to and this summer is my biggest trip so far.

Of all the things I have seen, some of my favorites have been the Parthenon, the Pantheon, St. Peter's Basilica, and Notre Dame. Kaylah and I even met some pilgrims on their way to Santiago during our travels! When we were in the train station in Paris two people got off our train with backpacks and they had shells tied to them so I caught up to them and asked if they were heading to Santiago and they were! This isn't their first time either. I wish we could've talked to them more but our paths parted.

Hey everybody! Today marks my official two week point here in Europe and I couldn't be more ecstatic about it! In my time here I have ventured to Rome, Paris, Brussels, Brugge, Amsterdam, and now Barcelona. While I'm a little sad the 'vacation' part of my trip is up, I know the next three weeks are still going to be a blast. Attached is a photo of Jess and I with a statue of Charlemagne in front of the Notre Dame! We thought it was amazingly ironic that we found him the day after we read about him for Dr. Sheffler.

Currently we're at the Atenas hotel where we will be meeting up with all of you tomorrow and trying to recoup a bit before 'class' begins. We can also safely say that they have awesome tortellini, in case you were worried. Well, I hope everyone has a safe flight tonight and I can't wait to meet all of you tomorrow!

Hello all! I just wanted to take a brief moment in my last minute preparations to show what I'm lugging on this trip. On the left is a 45 liter Kelty ruck sack and on the right is a medium/largish old duffle bag I had lying around. It may seem as though I am over packing, but each bag is only about half full and I plan on relying mostly on the rucksack while the duffle is for extra items and space to store things that I buy. Furthermore, I also wanted extra room so that I could carry anything that people bought but didn't have room for in their own bags. This way, other members of the group may be able to bring something home that they may not have originally been able to.

I am packed and ready to go on this new adventure! I have not flown before, so I am nervous about the flight, but overall I am way too excited. I have probably over-packed since I am a new traveler, but I still have plenty of room in my suitcase, so hey, who cares? At least I'll be prepared!

This past week was challenging as I tried to get all my homework done, bills paid, etc. I got a flat tire and had to say goodbye to my friends, family, and the kiddos I nanny! But, I couldn't ask for a more supportive system of people.

It is not everyday that you have the privilege of adding new members to your family. This past Friday, my older brother Christopher asked his girlfriend Ariel if she would marry him. Luckily she said yes! Ariel has a three year-old daughter whom will now be my niece. They are both amazing and beautiful ladies, and I am truly blessed to have them in my life.

Sunday, Ariel, her mother and sister, my mother, and myself all went to try on wedding dresses and bridesmaids gowns. It was a fun experience and a great opportunity to grow our families closer together. Time could have been spent packing for Spain, working on homework, or even researching my upcoming adventures, but it is extremely important to spend time with family before pilgrimage. Perspective is gained when surrounded by loved ones; that maybe the world's problems aren't so big when you have such a support system around you.

Most people are going to post about packing preparations, which are very interesting reads. However, this is a big moment in my family's lives. It would be amiss to not post about this incredible event, as the reader may not understand my later posts and the mindset behind them. Going to Spain, walking the Camino, meeting new people, the experience will be one to remember forever. Yet, I will be returning home to a great couple and a joyful day!

"I have no idea what I'm going to do tomorrow.." "How exciting!" -Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb

Well, the journey begins tomorrow morning when I step on the plane for Barcelona. I have never been to Europe, so I am extremely excited and blessed to have this opportunity. I am practicing my Spanish so I do not have such a difficult time over there. Spain is such a beautiful country and has so much intriguing history to be seen, which will make the trip that much more exciting for me. I love history and landscape and enjoy hiking, so this will be a wonderful trip.

I am an International Studies student with a History Minor, so this trip is right up my alley. It will be interesting to interview pilgrims that have made it the whole distance and hear their stories. I hope to be able to find out what drives pilgrims to go on the pilgrimage to Santiago, whether it be religious or not.

What I PackedSomehow I was able to fit all my clothes, laptop, GoPro, notebooks, toiletries, etc. in my carry-on bag. Thanks to my mom for some extra packing help. I am also bringing a hiking bag stuffed full of socks, my combat boots, rain coat, laundry bag, and camel back. I am packing light because I really do not need that much stuff. All I need is a weeks worth of clothes and socks for hiking and I am good to go. I cannot wait to see how much or how little my fellow travelers will be bringing. I will see everybody in Spain soon! Buenos noches mis amigos!

Today I officially begin my journey to Spain! I live in the Orlando area but my ticket is through Jacksonville Airport, so the first leg of my trip involves a three-hour drive north.

I am so excited about the opportunities that this trip will provide me with. It will be my first time in Spain, so just about everything will be a first-time experience for me. As of now, I am most excited to hike the Camino de Santiago and complete the medieval pilgrimage. I have loved the outdoors for as long as I can remember and I am truly ecstatic to combine this love with the reverence of the journey, the culture of northern Spain, and the camaraderie of fellow pilgrims. In a way, we will all make our return as new people.

What I've PackedFor this trip I'll be bringing this small rolling suitcase and a hiking backpack. Looking inside of my suitcase, anybody could tell that the Camino is what I am most excited for — nearly all of the clothes I've packed are for that portion of the trip and half of the suitcase is sacrificed to my hiking shoes. I only have two outfits packed for touring the cities because I plan to buy some local clothing and hopefully not stick out as a complete tourist. After all, when in Spain, do as the Spaniards do!

I was born and raised an indoor person, and slowly but surely the outdoors have called my heart. I know I will complain, moan and say that I am tired as we walk those long 100 kilometers, but I know it will be worth it. I have a heart for people, and I enjoy hearing stories, just as much as I enjoy telling stories. I was unaware that the Pilgrimage to Compostella even existed until this class, but it has inspired me, to be open to strangers and also to step out of my comfort zone, to find my own calling along the Camino.

I have finished packing, and now it is simply a waiting game. I will be staying Europe after our Study Abroad adventure for 4 more weeks, so I had to pack for both trips.

And so it begins! I have been waiting almost half a decade now for this epic voyage to Mother Spain. Ever since I first watched The Way, on a snowy day long ago, I have had a “calling” to grab my backpack and begin the march to Santiago de Compostela. I know this trip will not be easy, and I am prepared to face any physical or mental task that the group and I could face along the way. God willing everything will go smoothly.I am caring an army green and black Nanda 60 + 10 backpack. It is divided into two compartments: A large main one, where I will keep the majority of my supplies; and a smaller secondary one, where my notebooks, pens, pencils, and other tools will be available if I need them quickly. On both sides are places to put water bottles, I have been dehydrated before and I plan on it not happening on this trip. I will bring two water bottles, however I haven’t decided on the size yet. The following is a list of everything I have ready:·A pair of Rainbow Flip-Flops (for the evening)·Two button-down Columbia Hiking Shirts (long sleeve)·Two pairs of Columbia Hiking Pants (they can be turned into shorts if necessary)· Four pairs of boxers and three compression shorts·A Tank Top and Gym Shorts for sleeping·Three pairs of Columbia hiking socks,·A Brown Bandana·Gander Mountain Flashlight ·Gander Mountain Raincoat·My trusty travel journal·Necessary Documentation ·School notebook·Laptop/ Charger·Phone Charger ·Hiking Stick ·Black Casio Watch ·Holy Bible·Two pens and a pencil·Buck Pocket Knife ·Hiking towel·My hiking pillow (the one thing I will not compromise on!)·An REI Travel Sack·Extra boot laces·My toiletries (toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, deodorant, razor, etc.)· A Costco “workmen’s” hat·Two thin cotton t-shirtsIt is important to keep in mind that this list is fluctuating and might change before I leave for Madrid, Spain on the sixth. I am excited for this new adventure but at the same time cautious. A lot of things can go wrong in a month especially “across the lake” (as my Aunt would say). I you have any questions or suggestions please let me know!